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Cries in the darkness….
How to write about nightmares? I have always been a very vivid dreamer. My dreams as a child were so real I struggled differentiating them from reality. As an adult, they’re still as vivid, but I’ve learned to mentally flag them … I suppose with the memory version of ‘italics.’ Dreams to me are *almost*…
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Undeserving
Music is so powerful; a gorgeous, rich, wonderful tool that first opens your mind up, gently pries open doors, and then can rip out your heart and you find yourself sobbing on an otherwise innocuous day. Or maybe that’s just me. This weekend was full beyond belief; working to take my old creaky home to…
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Trees. Our soul friends…
I listen to CBC Radio a lot; there’s often discussion about reconciliation, interviews with first nations individuals who share their stories about how they experienced Residential Schools, Reservations, Childhood, Adulthood, White People, and more. They share their real. At work, we are participating in some sensitive learning around all of this. I’m a white cis…
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Marring your very perfect self
Let’s talk about self harm. I’m not an expert; I’m not a psychologist; I have never offered peer support; and have never harmed myself in any of the ways that are talked about in books or popular culture. So – that’s a lot of words to say I’m absolutely unqualified to write about other people’s…
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Where are all the brave, beautiful women…. So that I can join in?
When I was little my mom made a lot of my clothes. And when we bought my clothes, I had one major criteria… That when I spin around the skirt would fly up, like a top… like a ballerina. While I know now that little girl and this adult are autistic and the spinning and…
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Soul.Food.
The moment a child is born into this world, they gasp for air. Within moments of turning from blue to red, flush with oxygen, they gasp for nourishment. Skin. A breast. A bottle. We are blessed here in the West that there is patience given, and knowledge that there is time; a child can wait…
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Blessed Slander
Slander. The word is serpentine as it rolls through my head, over my tongue. Defining it. Naming it. Trying to take away its power. My heart is heavy these past days. Not as heavy as in the past, my desire to simply walk away from this life hasn’t resurfaced since starting over in a new…
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One stair tread sanded…
My hands are still tingling from holding the palm sander for an hour and half, in spite of doing the dishes and watering the garden since taking a break from my project. I had to stop, look, sit back and say to myself, “that’s enough for one day…” I bought myself a little sander last…
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What to say when the day is full
Every day is full… and every day has it’s gorgeous blessings and tremendous hards. A friend today reminded me (for probably the 3rd time) that I should write, and write publicly, my truths. I don’t know where to begin, what to say – I’ve never had a blog – I have actively avoided posting philosophical…